Dear friends and family,

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

It’s Candlemas again. Aka the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, aka the Feast of the Purification of Mary. I offered some theological reflections on the day in last year’s Candlemas newsletter. This year, in a less pious key, I’ve been reminded that this is one of the days of the year when I most miss teaching. Not so much the cold, long February days when I’d walk to school in the snow before the sun rose and trudge home in the slush and the early twilight. But very much the camaraderie of a class that meets each day, cares about each member, and finds convivial ways to pass the time. For example, a Candlemas celebration.

I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I had one of those moments where, in the midst of normal classroom operations, I was able to get some real teaching in. I think it was a mid-December conversation about the merciless consumerism of the “25 Days of Christmas,” and I saw an opportunity to talk about calendars. That our contemporary American liturgical calendar (one mostly structured on the high holy commoditized holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, NYE, Super Bowl Sunday, Valentine’s Day, etc.) is not the Actual Structure of Time. That many cultures organize their common life in entirely different ways. That our own “traditions” are typically corruptions of more sensible and coherent patterns. Since we were on the subject of Christmas, I mentioned that Christmas was actually 12 days, beginning rather than ending on the 25th, and that the Christmas season was preceded by another season, Advent. And about Epiphany, and that, for real holiday-celebrators, Christmas lasts ‘til Candlemas.

“Candlemas?” And then an explanation of the feast, that the story of Jesus continued after he was born, the traditional blessing of the candles, a whole theological lesson safely ensconced in a history lesson (I was teaching in a public school, after all, and most days I didn’t want to lose the job). Candlemas became a class meme, and some enterprising students saw an opportunity for a class party. And I am nothing if not a partier.

And so, each February 2nd for a few years, I and my students would bring in as many battery-powered candles as we could scrounge up (I turned down many ardent requests for open flames), and we’d have class by the electric flicker of pseudo-candlelight.

I’m grateful for those students, and I do miss them. I hope they’re celebrating today.

And I might also say here, relatedly, that I’ve been trying to discern and pray about an inkling I’ve had about Anglican parochial schools. Maybe it’s my short but strongly-felt experience teaching in a few corners of the contemporary school system. Maybe it’s my present fascination with Ivan Illich. Maybe it’s that our own children are hurtling towards traditional school-age. But I know in my bones, and you do too, that formation is happening always and everywhere. We’re never not being formed, especially when we’re young. And while you can’t systematize formation—because people aren’t machines, whatever the prevailing cultural narrative is—you can be thoughtful, careful, patient, and intentional about it.

I don’t really want to go back to the classroom, at least not full-time, but I may well like to start, or lead, or humbly assist, a school devoted to the formation of young saints, centered on common prayer, and faithful in attention to the world, the liberal arts, the life of the body. If you’re so inclined, I’d ask you to pray about it with me. If you happen to be independently wealthy and have always wanted to start a school, let’s talk.

Happy Candlemas,

Zack

*An Old Man Writing a Book by Candlelight*, Godfried Schlacken, ~1700

A Calvinian, Malachian January

My studies proceed without cessation. In January, I took a 2-week intensive course on John Calvin and the Institutes of Christian Religion. The Institutes is one of those works I’d included a list of “Books Which, If I Don’t Read By the End of Seminary, Shame Shall Fall Upon My Head.”

I didn’t quite read the whole thing (it wasn’t all assigned), but I read most of it! And while I can’t give my full, perfectly nuanced evaluation of Calvin’s theology here (in brief: there is much that is good, some that is bad), I will say reading so much of it was an exceedingly helpful exercise. Calvin is the exemplar of a particular way of thinking theologically and reading the Scriptures, one which deeply influenced the traditions in which I grew up and now practice. Even when you disagree with him (and you should, sometimes), he helpfully provides a cogent opposition case for the disputation. His commitment to the primacy of Scripture, his confident and comforted delight in the providence of God, his surprisingly acute understanding of the tendencies of the fallen human mind and heart—he’s a source worth returning to.

The new semester, Spring 2022, is already at full-tilt, some two weeks in. I’m especially excited for a Hebrew exegesis course in Jeremiah. Spending some extended time with this longsuffering minister has made other extended time spent with Kant and Schleiermacher bearable. More on these classes anon.

*Lake Geneva*, John William Inchbold, 1882.

Speaking of teaching, and prophets, I’ve been grateful to be back in that role, leading a Sunday School class at Christ the King on the book of Malachi. Malachi is a preacher. He spoke the prophetic message of God's love, judgment, and covenant demands to a yet-disobedient people. His message is direct, pointed, disputational, confronting God's people and calling them to repentance. By Malachi's day, the exiled people of Judah had returned to Jerusalem, under the leadership of Zerubbabel and later Nehemiah they had rebuilt the temple, even the walls of the city, and they were looking for the fulfillment of the promises for the restoration and flourishing of Zion that had been delivered to them so powerfully by Haggai and Zechariah. Not finding those promises fulfilled to their liking or on their preferred schedule, they again rebel against God—compromising their worship and breaking the covenant. Malachi calls them to genuine worship, holy marriages, and diligent teaching, ever-reminding them of the foundation of their obedience—God’s perfect record of covenant love. There's also some wild prophecies about John the Baptist and Jesus, who would appear as messengers of the LORD some four centuries later.

It’s ancient and obvious wisdom that you’re supposed to prepare for worship, but I’m not always good about actually doing it. I've found that I truly appreciate the rhythm of being together in Sunday school and then heading into the Holy Liturgy. It gives me time to consider and meditate on the words and works of God, so that I can then go up praise him for those works with more knowledge, awareness, joy.

Home + Studio (Virgil is One)

At home, January was unremarkable, which was remarkable. November and December were a litany of aches and fevers and pains and whatever was going on with my own body. January has brought a respite, and while we're holding it with an open hand (knowing some sort of infection is surely slouching sinisterly our way), we've been genuinely and freshly grateful for the brief season of health we prayed for every night.

So we were able to resume many of our normal activities, unimpaired. We served at church, we went to the library, we read books, we gardened, we cooked, we conserved heat to save on propane costs.

We didn’t make explicit resolutions for the new year, but we did provisionally declare 2022 to be a Year of Health.

Erin is preparing for a half-marathon in March, and we're now all the beneficiaries of her long training runs leading her to find some new creek-side trails not far from our house. She’s also gardening every day, using winter to clear out and prepare new beds for the spring.

I've decided that, for another season, running isn’t my thing, and have been instead supplementing our more intentional diet with some bike riding and a gym membership, where I've been starting a weightlifting regimen according to Mark Rippetoe's thorough Starting Strength: Basic Barbell Training.

Also noteworthy for the new year: Clemmons Studio, Erin's ceramic art business, is at full operation. She's filling commissions, making sculptures, updating her online shop, and, newly, teaching classes! All this, naturally, in addition to the thousand tasks a day of the mother, wife, and friend.

Finally, our Virgil Ezekiel turned one last week. For the public record, he remains a chunky and generally affable young man. He’s babbling with the best of them, offering clear “Mama”s and “Dada”s and “uhoh”s. He’s crawling and climbing and hasn’t met a baby gate he doesn’t despise. He has the cheesiest closed-eye grin, and displays it liberally. He's snuggly, until you want his to be snuggly, at which point he wants to squirm out of your arms and grab all the interesting things which populate the world around him. He's a good sleeper, thanks be to God! He loves to trail after his brother and sister, and only sometimes gets squashed, stepped on, or stolen from. He has yet to encounter a composite object he didn't want to knock down.

WinterScenes

Pictures from Birmingham, AL, January 2022.

Status Board

Reading: I'm in the middle of about a dozen books right now. That the semester has started in earnest and I’m perpetually behind in class and supplementary reading means I sometimes despair of ever finishing one. Nevertheless, I persist. For my Christmas gift, Erin acquired three books by Ivan Illich, that erstwhile Catholic priest and social theorist whom I’m pretty confident has not only a comprehensive and compelling critique of modern social organization (with particular attention to scale, energy, education, and medicine), but also actual suggestions for re-making and renewing convivial society. I’m starting at the beginning, with his Deschooling Society. It’s a challenging and invigorating work, as Illich’s thought on modern educational institutions proceed from commitments fundamentally at odds with just about every modern assumption about value, anthropology, the goods of life.
Listening: We're trying to learn hymns with the kids at the end of Evening Prayer each night. Presently, we're working on The Day Thou Gavest Lord Is Ended. Teaching this past Sunday on Malachi 1, we got to the great Epiphany passage: "For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name will be great among the nations, says the Lord of hosts." This hymn, composed in 1870 (as the line about human empires reveals), has a lovely few verses imagining the praise of the Lord moving like a wave across the face of the earth. You can listen to a pleasant choral arrangement here.
Watching: A promotional MUBI subscription meant I was finally able to view Terrence Malick’s Voyage of Time: Life's Journey (on my birthday!), which I'm told is all the characteristically sublime footage left on the cutting room floor of my favorite film, The Tree of Life, edited together with Malick's perfectionist rhythm and searching voiceover. Existential in the best way.
Food & Drink: For a late birthday present, Erin’s parents watch the children while Erin and I spent a few hours wandering around Huntsville, AL. We enjoyed some excellent fish & chips and some house-cured pastrami at The Poppy & Parliament.

Prayer Requests

The best way to support us is to join with the Son in remembering us before the Father. If you’d like to pray with and for us, here are some things you can remember:

thank you to all who have prayed for my health since last newsletter. i have been feeling better, with fewer symptoms, and all my medical tests have come back negative for worst-case scenarios.
that we would make enough income this year to avoid the medical insurance coverage gap
that Erin’s first ceramic classes as a teacher would go well, and that more people would seek her out for classes and commissions
that my upcoming clergy retreat would be fruitful
that God would sustain us through the semester in health and diligence
that Eleanor would find confidence and joy in friendships
that Ames would learn to avoid and overcome tantrums, and love his siblings well
that Virgil would continue to grow healthy and strong
that God would go before us to begin preparing our post-seminary ministry

We’d also like to pray with and for you! If you’re reading this, you’re probably already in our prayers, but we’d love to know more specifically what we can pray for. You can text us, of course, or you can email us prayer requests at clemmonsonmission@gmail.com

We’re the Clemmons family–-Zack, Erin, Eleanor, Ames & Virgil–-living & studying & working in Birmingham, Alabama for sake of God’s Kingdom.

If you’d like, you can support us financially as we navigate this season on mission, with part-time income.

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The Clemmons on Mission

Another Candlemas Update from the Clemmons…